Pandora's box
by AlFlowerrise
Summary: She was his enemy. He knew it. But he still couldn't prevent this from happening. And when Dawn's infiltrating into Team Galactic's headquarters, it only gets worse. DawnSaturn Rated T for some languages but not much
1. Chapter 1

Pandorashipping - Dawn x Saturn I've no idea where this idea came from but since I think it turned out rather okay I can as well post it because there aren't many DawnSaturn out there. I hope you're enjoying this! It's kinda fun writing about unusual couples! :) I'm planning to do a sequel as well, we have to see.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

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* * *

Pandora's Box**

_Shit._

That was the only thing he could say. Typical. Typical that he had to fall in love with Team Galactic's biggest enemy, the girl that could be seen on every poster inside the headquarters – that stupid, grinning face with eye too big for that little face. Too big for him to escape. The girl that was too skinny – did she eat anything or was she just fit from all the exercising that came (delivered with mail) when you were a trainer? That wore a way too short pink skirt that revealed two pale, but well-formed legs – rather long compared to her overall shortness. Those pink boots that was so girlish he wanted to puke on them. That blue hair that was so (gah, why must he feel this way?) inviting, he only wanted to stop the latest battle they had and let his fingers slid through her locks. He wanted to touch her face, making her look at him without any grins, rolling eyes or skiing eyes, only a normal look, when he could remove that mask and see the person that really was her. Dawn. The girl he hated (and loved.) The one that stood in his way in more than one aspect. She prevented the plan, Cyrus' plan of changing the world – (this world filled with whelps and wrong-makers that killed it with their stupidity) – to the better, and more importantly, she prevented him from impressing the boss. Made him look like a stupid novice that couldn't even prevent a small girl from infiltrate their massive building and destroyed it from the inside. Over and out. He should be a hundred times better than her. But apparently he wasn't. No matter how much he tried; how many Super Potions he threw on his Toxicroak, it just fell. Over and over again. And it was her. She just stood there with that determined shine in her blue eyes, didn't even break a sweat. She wasn't afraid and he would rather eat a Steelix than admitting it out loud but that was one but many things that impressed him. Something like that. But when he fell deeper down the bottomless well and crashed into the wall when he struggled to get out she walked away, with her pink boots, with her blue, thick hair, blue eyes and everything – like he wasn't more than a bug under her foot. A roach crawling up the wall.

And he wasn't. For her. But she was for him.

He was angry, vicious, clenched his teeth only when some of his fellow Galactic member mentioned her name during one of the coffee-breaks in the cafeteria – (which wasn't many.) He was angry when he saw her, when she spook, when he saw her – (ironically enough he couldn't stop looking though) – on television, smiling and holding up a new Gym Badge. Sweet temptation, she was annoying and foolish but he still couldn't get her out of his mind.

Dear, Dialga, how could he be so incredibly stupid? He swore, _swore_, that he should put any foolish desire (like love) behind just to be the right hand to Cyrus that Saturn knew that he wanted to be. It was true. He would, _could_, never betray his boss now, he wanted to see where this road where they walked on right now led, the final destination. He respected Cyrus – sure, it was certainly a dog buried under the sand but hey – and more importantly, agreed with his ideas and wanted to discover the true intention with this plan that Team Galactic worked days and night to fulfill. Saturn _trusted _Cyrus and hoped that the feeling was equal. But it couldn't be if he threw all away for some kid and her stupid Prinplup that hadn't even evolved to an Empoleon yet. Wasn't that a sign that she was still wet behind her ears? Yes. Everything was wrong with her – if only she hadn't been so cute, so innocent, so _strong_. But "if" was a meaningless word, it didn't mean anything.

If – yes, that word again, he couldn't stop using it – only it had been Mars. Or Jupiter. Even if it was prohibited to show any kind of romantic interest to someone (at least when Cyrus saw it) it would have been more logical. He worked together with them, exchanged words with them and discussed with them. They even had the same goal! Dawn was still hidden behind a huge, foggy cloud that made it impossible for him to read her. He didn't know her, hadn't talked to her more than some furious battle cries that really didn't mean anything, didn't know where she lived or what she liked. Anything. Nothing about this mess was logical. First; she was way younger than him. Still a kid. Two; she probably hated all that Team Galactic stood for (why else this eager will of destroying everything to pieces in the first place?) and would never accept the one he was. And he hated her for trying to stop her. No. It would never work. She was fire, he was ice, no matter what happened they could never mix. And three; why would she be interested in him? Mars and Jupiter were around the same age as him and were rather good-looking, at least if you looked closer, tried to find their inner-beauty hidden under all that makeup. Even if Mars' squeaky voice and Jupiter's self-righteous style annoyed him to hell it was better than to whine after _her_. So much better. Then he shouldn't have been in this awkward situation when he had to question his own sanity. Hell, he didn't even know what he wanted to do with her. Live with her? Kiss her? Hold her in his arms? Nah – (denying is the leach that kept dragging him forward.) But the problem was that he _couldn't _do anything than to prevent her from messing with his job.

But. Yes, there was a 'but'. What if Cyrus told him to actually hurt Dawn? Physical damage? To regain his trust he must obey every order that came straight at him – and he would happily do that. (But not that.) Everything but that. He… Alright, just admit it already – he could never _ever _hurt her. To see that thin figure fall, scream in agony… no. At least not with his hands. And even when he added her persistence to the equation, there was only one answer that seemed logical – that he wanted to see how far she could reach. He was impressed; _stunned _even by everything she stood for. Okay, fine, he wanted to meet her in person. Talk. Not fight. He couldn't, but he so wished. That meddling kid had taught him something; that you could get how far as you wanted as long as you believed in yourself. She had accomplished much. So had he. But he was doing it for someone. She didn't.

He was loyal to his _boss_, not her. Forget her. Now. But he couldn't. Everytime he (obliviously) imagined her face in front of him, his stomach whooped and his blood rushed up towards his cheeks. The snakes in his body moved.

Couldn't this desire – that came from nowhere to strike bulls-eye – just rot and vanish like leaves when winter was coming? This was dangerous. Like Pandora's Box – it could change everything. And not in a way he wanted.

"Saturn", he heard a voice and was forced – (not that he minded though) – back to the reality. It was Cyrus. He and a group of Galactic Grunts were standing in the middle of his office, obviously stressed about something. He stared dumbly; what had happened now? "It's not like you to be so… _off_? Something the matter?"

He straitened his body and looked his boss is his eyes, small dribbles of sweat was running down in face. Not much. Wasn't really used to this kind of unawareness. Always laid one step ahead – that was necessary if you worked together with someone as Cyrus. Maybe that was why Saturn had come so far in this organization, because he always – (well, almost always) – looked at pros and cons before he made his decisions. "Yes, sir… no, no I mean sir", what exactly was he doing? "I'm sorry. Can I help you, sir?"

Cyrus signed deeply and put his hands on his hips. "You can help by being more aware of what's happening. We have a problem. Some Galactic Grunts have reported that there is an intruder in these headquarters and you probably already know who that is? I have some other business to attend to so I'm going to leave it to you to take care of this, Dawn-kid." Saturn shuddered when he heard that name. Typical. So typical that he had to be the one. But as long as the Grunts could take care of her he shouldn't have to face her.

"Roger, sir. Uh, where are you going sir?" he asked even if he knew better to stay away from places that he didn't belong.

"Mt. Coronet", Cyrus answered anyway. "I hope you know that you're doing now, Commander Saturn. Good-bye."

As soon as the boss left _Commander _Saturn pressed on a button at the wall that was linked to the headphone every member in the team used and commanded them to use everything they got and team up to beat the crap out of the girl. Wait. That didn't sound right. Anyway. He hoped that the Grunts had learned from previously failure and had actually _trained _their Pokémon. Sure, she would probably just walk past approximately ninety percent of the team – members that still believed that Wumples were gonna take them anywhere – but you could always hope that she underestimate the stronger ones. Hold on. Wasn't that risky? It was like he actually wanted to face Dawn himself…

Okay, fine. He wanted to do that. He wanted to show her. Wanted to show that he was stronger than she though he was.

He tried to wave away Dawn from his mind and focused on reading the newspaper that lay in front of him. Took a sip from his coffee, with smoke that reached for the ceiling like fingers and browsed through the pages. Read a couple of articles that interested him as much as makeup did. Crimes. Well, of course. Sure, in the villagers' eyes, Team Galactic was criminals too. But they failed to understand one thing. That there were always two sides on a coin. They had a _reason _to do this. And Saturn knew Cyrus' intention. Well, he though he did anyway.

But when he came to the entertainment pages he stopped. What was this? He leaned closer. That blue hair? He dropped the cup and the brown liquid started to eat through the thin paper. He read the headline. "**Young Girl rising up towards the League." **Even though he wanted to just close the paper and let his Golbat use Air Cutter on it another part of him (the part he hated) forced him to read the article. To his amusement (and fear) he noticed that there were some facts about this handsome little rat. He smiled. This Dawn was fifteen years old – really, he though she was younger, was born in Twinleaf – must be another one of those grots in Sinnoh and she liked to train Pokémon – kinda obvious but okay – and that she still slept with stuffed dolls at home. His smile got bigger. Aw.

Okay, admit it Saturn, you are so floored by this girl. He didn't know when it started but he knew that it wasn't going to end.

He leaned back at his chair and signed. Let his fingers ran through his blue hair. He looked at the monitors that buzzed near the ceiling. The amount of surveillances cameras was huge but surprisingly enough he couldn't see her. But he wasn't – he kinda saw that coming – given much time to think more about that issue when his mobile called. He fished it up from his pocket and held it against his ear. It was Mars. "Hey, I've heard about the infiltration. You have control over it, S?"

"Don't you trust me?" he asked and drummed with his finger on the desk. "But I have. The Grunts should be able to handle _one _girl."

He heard a mutter in the phone. "I've heard that before. Call me if it get worse though and need reinforcement."

To his surprise he heard a knocking on his door. Not a loud one more of a trace. He raised his eyebrow. How could this be? Probably some Grunt that lost his member card or something. That wasn't the first time. He cut Mars off and laid the phone in front of him, dried up the coffee that was doing to create some (not so) nice markings on the wood. He then sat down again and called the person in.

"Thank you", he heard a voice that he didn't recognize and then did the door open.

And when he saw then it was he nearly fell of the chair. Impossible.

It was Dawn. What the heck? Why hadn't the Grunts called? And what kind of attitude was this; just walking in like this was some kind of planned meeting. She didn't even seem determined to battle. To his terror and dismay he blushed when he noticed how extremely cute – she was way better live – she was and how extremely gripping those blue eyes was.

"Hello again, Saturn", she greeted and walked closer to his desk. "But why are you blushing?" she asked innocently. Where was her fear? He was Commander Saturn, for Arceus' sake and he was both strong and feared. Not well-represented outside these walls.

He gasped and clenched his fist on the edge of the desk. "I'm not blushing! I'm… Sweating!"

She frowned and smiled in a corner of her mouth. "Okay."

He shook his head, still those stupid, burning cheeks, and tried to look straight in her eyes. He failed. "What are you doing here? When will you learn that it's meaningless to try and stop us?"

"When Team Galactic is history." Girly voice. Still young. But oh so determined.

"Come on. That's never gonna happen."

She stepped closer, her pink boots echoed on the floor. To his surprise she actually sat down on the other side of him. His hands shook. What should he do? He should battle with her, not staring at her. But he couldn't turn away. This was the moment. The only moment. He could use what he had, right?

"Saturn, right? I know that you're hiding something. And I know that I'm already too late." She flicked with her blue hair.

"You are."

And she was. Cyrus already had the Red Chain. What now he planned to do with that.

She rose up again, probably she suffered from the thing called restlessness and started walking in circles. He followed her movement, not sure what to do. But unluckily she didn't saw the pile of boxes that he didn't bother to throw away; she tripped and fell helplessly on the floor. He could hear a loud _thud _when her head reached the floor. Oh. Sweet. Another thing in the schedule that he couldn't foresaw. He should probably take this moment and throw her out but he couldn't. Something as ridiculous as concern filled his veins and he got up and tried to help her up but she backed off.

"Stay away! You're using Pokémon for your own selfish desire! You, Saturn! And I never accept help from someone like you."

It stung. He could admit that. Helplessly he let his arm hang. She couldn't understand. Never. He should be angry, say that she was naïve that didn't see that everything wasn't as clear as she believed it was.

"Dawn I", he started, his voice soft but very confused. "I can't quit. I believe in this."

"You believe what your _boss _is telling you!" she shouted as tears rolled down her pale cheeks. One after one, aiming for that cold floor. "You're wrong. It's Pokémon. Living creatures. You…" He couldn't hear anymore due to the tears. She just sat there like a sack of potatoes, looking more helpless than he never thought was possible.

What he did then was wrong. He knew. He could never take that back. But it was too late for him to hesitate. He couldn't. He took her in his arms while she contained to cry, wetting his uniform. Awkwardly he patted her on the head, feeling that soft smell from her perfume. His heart rose.

Why? Why must he love this girl? It was stupid, dreadful and could only lead to disasters. But when he was near her, felt her soft fingers touch his arms all of this vanished. Into nothing. Left was only her. And him.

She was wrong. She didn't understand. And he still had to stop her.

For Cyrus.

How was it possible for him to get out of this mess?


	2. Chapter 2

_N/A: Pandorashipping Dawn x Saturn _This was supposed to be a one-shot but I guess it got (I didn't see that coming) longer. It will be about two chapters more I believe :) I don't own Pokémon.

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Two weeks passed. Then three. Then a month. Time flew by – too slow, too fast – like a bird souring in the sky, up and down through the clouds. And no obstacle could prevent the ride. You had to race to the finish. He. She. Everybody.

Well, that sucked, didn't it? That he had to move on despite what happened that single night that he both wanted to remember and forget. Filled with mixed emotions – like different ingredients mixed to grease ready for the stove – he felt the small (but obstinate) headache beat on his forehead wherever he got the time to let his mind wander freely. He didn't appreciate that. Not at all. He remembered what he got and what he lost. He would probably never see her again. And that was for the best, he reminded himself. Time to move on and time to regain his trust that he lost that day. It was just so ridiculous but he couldn't stop her. Couldn't battle her when tears fell like that. He had never seen a soul so vulnerable, exposed. It scared him but so triggered something inside him that he didn't know he had anymore.

He lost it when he joined Team Galactic and didn't even consider the fact that it may had been a disadvantage for him. Maybe it was. But nah, probably not. Not in this organization – if only he succeeded with his mission (which he never did when she was in the picture) there was nothing more to mention. But now it was back – arrowed drenched in lava that killed, that drilled into his skin – and it made him slam his fist across the table in frustration.

Caring.

He freaking _cared _about her. Didn't that reveal how terrible, tremendous and formidable this whole situation was for him? And sad. He cared about his biggest enemy. How could he be so stupid that he let it come that far? It was too far from the start, there must be something he could have done to erase her from his mind? Paint a red cross in her face and throw her in a trash-can. Something. What the hell was he thinking? How could he be attracted to someone that he didn't know? That didn't make sense. But that wasn't the worst – no, it was only the beginning. Because when he thought of her he even started to doubt Team Galactic's intention. He never did that before. At least not Cyrus'. And sure, he was still on with the plan. Someone had to do something with the world as the way it was. You didn't need to be a genius to figure that out. He wasn't evil by nature, but was willing to use strict measures to make the people in this land understand that you couldn't treat the world as you wanted. Not for long. He remembered when he was younger – a year perhaps when this plan was starting to spread across the members of this organization – he often discussed this with Cyrus. And the man's ideas weren't cruel or exaggerate, they were clever and it was obvious that he kept a large portion of wisdom inside his brain.

"The world isn't this frail by nature. We are those who removed its natural protection", as he said with a cup of coffee between his two pale hands.

And sure. It sounded logical. It still did. Cyrus was logical. And Saturn couldn't help but to be impressed by a man that still could be observed as fairly young had some deep goals with his life. He wanted to see where Cyrus – (if he had any) had his limits. He knew that the Galactic Boss was gonna get to the end of the road someday. Even Dawn couldn't stop him. Nobody could stop him.

And Saturn had helped him come this far.

But now he wasn't sure if that was enough.

He had always been Cyrus right hand that kinda foretell what was gonna happen next or what consequences that may occur if you threw the pebble into the sea. Bookkept everything in a million of files – did the economy rolled on, how much money did they need for the most present advance? Stuff like that. It didn't really entertain him but he kinda found it relaxing and on a more selfish measure, it gave him control over something that had changed his life. He now knew where he belonged. And Cyrus always praised him – (not much but still noticeable) – and always said that they were gonna reach the goal together. _Together_. That simple word – with eight letters – had more control over everything he did than he wanted to receive. He was standing higher up in ranking than both Mars and Jupiter, despite the fact that they were better Trainer than him. And Cyrus' enthusiasm when they discovered new branches in the tree, it rubbed off on him – it sounded exaggerate but it was true. He was like a father, even though they never spoke of anything beside Team Galactic's business. Really, it was hard to explain but it was something extraordinary – security, protected him from wrath from the sea of sorrow – about having him at his side.

But all of that was past. Now he had to focus on the present.

He lost something when he laid eye on Dawn. Not the will to complete twining out the ball of twine, more the purpose of it. Something laid in his way, he couldn't see clear, the pearl hidden beneath a fog blew him away. He was confused, dumbfounded, lost in the cave in an uncanny way that made his head going in circles. He didn't understand. Maybe that was why he felt this way. He didn't know what to do – what life had in store of him now.

The only thing he knew that he was a huge _letdown _for the boss. Sure, he didn't lose his position but he lost something else – faith. Or not him but Cyrus had. It was obvious. Sure, nobody else had probably notice that but in the end, the stars shined as brightly as this. The faith was gone. And it was his fault. He did it. Created this, even though he was aware of the consequences. All for her.

But it _seemed _right. He couldn't prevent the wave from crashing into the cliffs. He held her in his arms and it just felt so _right_. Because she showed him something that he never thought was possible. That this – her role of being the heroine that she didn't have chosen – was damaging her harder that he (and the others) wanted to believe. Behind that mask, behind her strength and struggling to do _right_ – she was just that fifteen year old girl that just wanted to run home to her mother and cry. And he understood it. Damn, it sounded chronically pathetic but he did. _He_, the Commander that usually could ignore everyone's problem with ease but not hears. No, it wasn't logical. Not a bit. But hey, what should he do about it? Only he could lose the ground by doing so. And so he did.

"_Pull it together hey, Dawn", he said gently and ruffed her in the hair. That gorgeous hair that felt like silk between his pale fingers. _

"_You're not gonna stop me?" _

"_Is there any point?"_

In the end, there wasn't. He couldn't beat her. But he still could have done _something _besides from sitting on his butt and let her release the three Legendary Pokémon; Azelf, Uxie and Mesprit. He didn't even try. Of course, in the end that didn't really matter because Cyrus already had the Red Chain but still – they could probably use the three psychic Pokémon's power to their own advantage in some way, but still – he let them go without any thought. When the boss later returned from Mt. Coronet – what the hell he now did there – and saw that the Pokémon where gone he demanded answers. Now. And Saturn lied – _lied_ – when he told the boss that Dawn had defeated him in a battle and that he couldn't stop her from releasing them. It was a bad excuse, even worse due to the fact that he was a terrible liar – he tripped on the worlds and his eyes wandered like a television with a shoddy reception. And Cyrus saw it. From the beginning. It was pointless to deny that. He didn't do anything, didn't punish him, didn't lower his ranking, nothing. But Saturn knew. That it was never gonna be the same. It was over, the life as he knew. And he would never get it back, no matter what he did.

"_Are you angry at me?" she asked and lowered her head so that her hair fell forwards. There was something submissive with her appearance – sulking with guilt for accomplishing a thing that she believed in. It didn't make any sense, as nothing in this mess did. _

"_No. I didn't stop you. Isn't that proof enough?" _

_She smiled weakly and he felt a desire of touching her again. She had this world's most wonderful smile. Like butter in sunshine, he felt himself melt – extinguish by his own weakness. "It maybe it. Well, I guess I should be moving now", she mumbled and started to move to the Warp Panel when he laid a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. Put in a piece of paper between her fingers, wandered with his eyes before he let her escape. _

_That puzzled look was different from what he was expecting. _

He had no idea why he lent his e-mail address to her. It just seemed right, a way to not cut of the path between them entirely. Something like that. Because he was scared – stupid, yes, but nevertheless true – that it was over. That it didn't mean anything. He felt like he shrunk five years and was back at school when the passion seemed more important – more present – than anything else. It was the only aspect that counted. As this did.

His loyalty to the boss remained sturdy – but not in the same way as before. He knew. Due to this girl he had to stand on two grounds. Two grounds that could never mix. That swayed side by side, avoiding the other's present location. This was futile. But love often was. He knew that now. And when he turned on the computer that stood still on his desk, cheeked his e-mail and noticed a new mail from her – he knew that he was stuck. He buried his own grave, ate from the sweet-box even when he realized that it was empty.

And the worst was that he didn't seem to mind at all.

_I have no idea why I write to you but… I do. Can I ask you something, why did you give me your address? Do you want to talk to me?_

What else?

Before, Cyrus seemed everything. The plan also. And it was still there. But it wasn't everything. It would never return to be so. It was over.

_I do. Sorry. _

_I can't understand Team Galactic's plan to destroy the world. Is that what you want? _

_We don't want to destroy the world. We want to change it. You have to understand the difference, Dawn. _

_You're not bad. I know it. In fact, I think you're a really good person! But you hide that side behind your mask just so you can please your boss!_

You say that, huh? But what if I'm not good? You don't know me.

"Good person" seemed like a compliment. But he wasn't sure. No. He wasn't a good person. He could never be good for her. Because despite how cute and innocent she seemed to be, they didn't want the same thing. And he couldn't just throw everything away for her. This was his job. He had honor. He believed in this.

_Saturn, do you really know Cyrus' intentions? You should know that words don't have to be true. He can say something but mean something else. You never know. _

_He trusts me. I'm his right hand. _

_That doesn't have to mean anything. And how can you know that he trusts you? Do you know what he's planning now?_

No. He didn't. And it pained him more than he wanted to receive. He knew that he was planning to do something with the Red Chain, but what? He didn't know. Wondered if Mars or Jupiter had any ideas. But hey, probably not.

He guessed that he should be more aware of the change of his role in this plan, but when he put his fingers on the keyboard, created sentence that wasn't complicated, of filled with unnecessary padding – it was only him – and felt that he reached her – it removed everything, he only saw this. And he never wanted to stop. It was a drug, filling with the meaning and content that he couldn't resist. Not anymore.

_Saturn, why do you e-mail me? Is there something you want? You should hate me, not talk to me. _

_No reason… Or that sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? But I like you, okay. At least I don't hate you…_

…_Saturn… Why? *blush*_

Why? Yeah, that was a good question. And an even better question was why he admitted it. So easily? He blushed, his face burned with all that abashedness that he knew that he couldn't handle. Not anymore.

_I don't know. That's the problem, I guess. I know that you and I don't want the same thing. But I can't still get you out from my mind. I wish I could though. _

_I'm glad you're admitting it though. That you don't treat me like a little kid. I'm sick of it. And I'm actually glad that you don't hate me. Because I don't hate you. Your past and your goal can't change that. Never. And just between you and me – and this may seem a little strange and intrusive but I think you need it – you're very handsome ^^ And intelligent. I'm only better than you when it comes to Pokémon. _

He started at the screen. This was an e-mail that seemed too personal, too intrusive, too everything. Narrowed his eyes and tried to analyze her true intentions – _failed_. What did she mean? Did she find him attractive? Like he found her? Oh, Arceus, no. His cheek burned, you could definitely fry eggs on them. He paused, inhaled, and then let his fingers dance over the keyboard. He wasn't thinking anymore – just let his emotions walk on the road of determination before anyone could stop them.

_Oh. Dawn. You're cute. Way too cute. But I guess you already know that. This may seem strange because we barely know each other but I know that you have a personality that I found interesting. Maybe that's way I can't stop you – don't feel like I want to stop you. Because you have something… You influence me… you… _

He walked too far. He knew. But it was hard to stop the track from driving over the cliff. When it came to her.

One week passed and he got no reply. That wasn't so surprising, but it still felt… maybe not heartbreaking, more like a soft bruising against his skin, that he had lost something. But this was the ending that he had to accept. He knew it from the start, but still, why did it feel so bad? It was hard to tell.

He blinked, one, two, and looked down at his desk. Her face – that smile, wide, with her teeth – beamed at her. Hidden beneath the coffee-spot. He closed the paper and threw it in the trash bag. What exactly was he doing? This was exaggerating. It was time to move on. Now and never.

Some things vanished and you could do nothing about it. It rotted and disappeared in the earth, over, and it would never return.

Then his mobile called. He didn't bother checking the display. "Commander Saturn here."

The girly voice revealed that this was Mars. "Saturn! This is an emergency!"

He drum with his fingers on the table. When the word "emergency" left her mouth it was hard to tell what her true intention was. "What is it?"

"It's Cyrus!" Mars' voice seemed to edge to the tailspin. "We are on Mt. Coronet. And Cyrus is planning to summon Dialga and Palkia! But I'm not so sure that it is a good idea anymore. You have to do something. You have to come."

Wait. Black-out. This was too much. But he blocked out his thought – Cyrus never told him about this/Dialga and Palkia could destroy everything – said to her that he would attend as soon as possible, hung up and then leaved his office.

And when he exited the headquarters he realized one thing. That Dawn probably would be there, on the top, on Spear Pillar, trying to stop Cyrus.

And Saturn didn't know if it was a good or bad thing.

* * *

N/A: I'm sorry if this is confusing. The idea sounded better in my head. Thank you for reading this though!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Meh, this chapter isn't as good as I wished it to be :( And It has taking far too LONG writing this. Aw well. I hope the next chapter will be better. Thank you for reading this, I'm so happy if you do! :)

* * *

Dawn sure was a little, little girl. Small and thin and fragile and acted too old for her age. That was maybe for the positive aspect, that held the scale pan balanced, however, the negative aspects weighted it down, made anything corrupt and him wonder if he ignored the reality by purpose and when he would start realizing that she could never be the right one for him. She was a teenager. And a teenager often fell in love (believing in fairytales that didn't, didn't exist) with everything that _moved_, cried when their little naïve hearts broke but after a couple of days it was healed again and they moved on, smiling. Why would Dawn be an exception? No matter what she had done, what she stood for or what skills she processed, she would remain a "teenager" and she sure acted like one. She was angry, she cried, she thought she believed in saint and not in the devil's dark wishes. She wasn't an exception. He wanted her to be. But she was not. In the end.

And he had no idea why he spilled time thinking of her instead of focus on the more trivial matter that occurred in front of his two eyes. Oh, Dawn. Dawn, Dawn, Dawn. She sure was like the plague, cornered him wherever he choose to move. It was irritating. In the same time it told him something. That he wanted her. He so _wanted _her. Craved. Her mails only enhanced the feeling, the passion, the craving of the sugar in her sweet, genuine smile. Her words. Which somehow made him forget that the real person behind the screen was a _girl_. But for him she wasn't just a "girl." She was more. She was the goal he wanted to catch. The bird. Which took him back to the phone call Mars made earlier (which hooked both him _and _Dawn together despite the fact that she had nothing to do with this) and the fact that he _had _to get to Mt. Coronet and assist the other members of the organization _and _(but this wasn't an order, it was the Chatot repeating the mantra in his ears) make sure Dawn was alright. Because she was there. It was obvious. She was there and tried to stop Cyrus' plans. But she couldn't do it alone. She was brave, she was strong, but she wasn't a _God_. She couldn't do it alone. And he couldn't just sit here and watch, he _had _to help her.

Because he loved… Never mind, it was the right thing to do. For the organization. For Team Galactic.

He stuffed down potions and medicines in his bag, assured himself that his Pokémon where alright (not fainted), turned off his computer before he threw the bag over his right shoulder and hurried out from the building. The chilling breeze outside the high building filled with overstrained workers and deep signs made him shiver, wondered if he should walk back and grab his jacket that lay like a stippled balloon over his desk. But no. He hadn't time for that. Fished up his bunch of keys from his pocket, ran over to the parking where a millions of cars stood and collected dust. He signed at the view. When did it become like this, when the members worked so much that they totally lost their free-time? Free-time was something prohibited and soon it transformed into something unwanted, undesirable. Since free-time reminded everyone about what they didn't have (friends, family, hobbies.) They worked for this. It became an escape, where you worked instead of thought and it all seemed (but wasn't) easier. It was depressing. Almost as depressing as the thought that he was Dawn's fanboy.

Free-time. Mixed with distaste and hatred and fear. Free-time wasn't life. This was.

As for him. And it irritated him. How could this have gone so far?

And Cyrus, he thought as he got in the car and put the keys in the ignition switch, slowly backing forward due to some Bidoofs that blocked the way, he was completely mad. Summoning Palkia and Dialga, toying with fate like it didn't mean anything, doing like this, it was completely illogical. He couldn't believe it. He agreed to Cyrus' plan. But not doing it this way. Never, ever this way. Cyrus had no control over mythical power, no one had. But if you looked at it, analyzed it, maybe this wasn't abnormal. Surprising maybe but not abnormal. This was Cyrus. He wanted power, wanted to control everything while sitting in his office, moving his fingers across the tangents. For him, power was the sign that he was someone. Some people needed that, use their minds and physical abilities to walk over other people. Emotions didn't mean anything, it was a pebble in his socks, irritating and not wanted.

Still, he mumbled for himself as he left Veilstone's crowded street and singing street musicians in their own personal bubble where he didn't belong, heading straight for the mountain (for her), Cyrus amused him. That he even went this far to reach his dreams. But the amusement was on a distant plate, he couldn't let this slip through his hands. Palkia and Dialga could destroy Cyrus as well. And then the plan would vanish and nothing would be accomplished. But since the Galactic Boss didn't understand that, somebody had to stop him.

More specifically Dawn. And Saturn didn't like that. He was worried. Not for Cyrus. Cyrus fucking _betrayed _him by leaving him outside the situation. It it hadn't been for Mars' call he would've been sitting in his office, blind for the world, blind for the demise that crawled closer, closer. Everything would've just passed in front of his eyes. It made him angry. Mars knew. Jupiter knew. But not him.

Why?

He clenched his hands on the wheel, saw his pale knuckles turn white, bit his under-lip as he kept a straight visage on the road ahead, the tires wiping up dust from the asphalt. The betrayal hurt him. Pained him. He wanted to throw something, say something, but nothing would linger the force's might. It was impossible.

Since the plan was about Cyrus. Everything they did, everything they accomplished, it was for Cyrus.

And Saturn won't accept that anymore. He was not doing this for Cyrus. He was doing this for _her_.

Even though she didn't want him. Even though he scared her. He liked her. Wanted her to be safe. Didn't want her to disappear and crumple and die and rot. She was too pretty. Like a flower, thin, thin, fragile flower that should live. Live. He didn't care if she didn't want him. He wanted her (to be safe.) She was not going to do this alone.

No.

After twenty minutes – time passed by too fast, was spilled and he saw imaginary puddles the dew created (he liked metaphors) and he couldn't do anything about this – he saw Mt. Coronet's high tops pointing up from the horizon. A different time, a different life, he would've appreciated the view. It was magnificent. But he didn't see it. He only saw the minutes passed by, a big clock in front of his eyes that told him that it was too late. He swallowed as he got out from the car, not bothering to lock it.

It was too late, it was too late, it really was too late.

_No_.

He hurried his steps. It wasn't too late. It couldn't be.

* * *

Dawn never understood why she was the one. Why she was the gifted, why she created miracles she didn't even understand, why everything moved her way and why she was the one that had to drag Team Galactic down. It wasn't honorable, she didn't want to do it. But she had to. No one else did it. And this was madness. She couldn't sit and wait for the black, black nimbuses to eat up the world she was born to love. People she loved (Lucas, Barry, her mum, her Pokémon) would disappear from her. The thought made her chest shrink, her eyes water when the wave started flowing after her. She was scared. She didn't know what Cyrus was planning. It wasn't good. It was a high tower that wanted to fell over her. And since she didn't know what it was, it only enhanced the crawling feeling from behind that was going to rip her apart bone to bone. To nothing. Less than nothing. But she had to do this.

Alone.

Alone with her Pokémon.

There was no one there. No one that could help her. Lucas wasn't there. Barry wasn't there. No one.

She missed her simple life. Missed when everything was about contests and dresses and smiles and pleasures. It wasn't anymore. She was a part of an organization that wanted to destroy everything she was born to love, everything that made her smile and laugh and no matter how many times she destroyed the tower they would just raise it up again. She couldn't make them understand.

Not even Saturn.

Her chest felt smaller when she thought about him, thought about the man with those blue, blue eyes that were so sharp and clean and true. The hole in her stomach grew, she felt empty, hollow. She missed him, which told her about the graveness of the situation. She missed a guy that believed in this madness. But deep inside she believed that it didn't was like that. He wasn't like that. He couldn't. He had arguments about how the world was treated and that was right, that was fact, that people ate up the natural resources and spat out poising that slowly gnawed the balance into something else. But the problem wasn't solved by doing this. Destroying the world. It couldn't be that way.

No.

She tried to run faster but her legs didn't want to. Shivered, hands desperately clenching to Empoleon's pokéball for some comfort, heart banking and mind wandering.

She wanted him to be there.

She liked him.

And it wasn't just a "crush." It didn't feel like that. It was bigger, more consuming, more present. And she loved his e-mails, loved that he thought she was cute, that he _seemed _to like her. The reason why she didn't answer the last one was because she didn't know what to say. Words ran out. But she didn't want it do end.

It was too big to end.

But she had to understand one thing, she realized as she reached the summit and the chilling breeze made her pale skin sparkle like tundra. She pulled her scarf over her mouth, the cold air made it hard to breathe without feeling like you swallowed knives. That he wouldn't be here.

She didn't mean anything. The "plan" did. And he was wrong for her. He was evil. He believed that you could save the world by bombing it with an atomic bomb.

It was wrong. It was wrong.

But she still searched, looked around the small platform that represented the highest top in Mt. Coronet, where she dreamed about ever since she was a little girl to be one day. But now she wanted to run away. She wasn't strong. She wasn't brave. Not to face this alone.

She wasn't.

* * *

"Arceus, look at you, Mars", Saturn exclaimed as he saw her lying there, with blood sipping down her face, thin, thin blood sheds that almost matched her hair. She looked vulnerable where she laid, like she was broken, broken and lost (and she probably was.) He hurried to her with his Toxicroak in toe, helping her up and slowly created circles in her hair in a caring manner to stop her tears from falling. "What happened?"

"It has been a ruckus!" she mumbled, arms hanging and tears running. He looked at her, didn't know what to say, what to do. This was nothing like Mars, this was a thin, frail copy that couldn't take a step alone. And it was Cyrus' fault. He gritted his teeth as he led her forward, trying to find a safe spot for her. He destroyed her. He destroyed everything. Mars believed in Cyrus. She _loved _him. And he did this.

And Saturn knew that the organization now was torn apart and left in rubble and it would never be the same again.

"Where's Jupiter?" he asked as he carefully laid her down, zipping up his bag and threw her a towel. He really didn't want to leave her like this but he couldn't do anything else, with Dawn up there, trying to defeat the impossible. Mars was nice. He liked her. And hated what she had become. But he couldn't help her. At least not now. He pulled the towel around her shoulders and repeated the question and she looked back, with those red, red eyes that would never be the same again. They had lost their determination. Since she had lived in a lie. Like he had. Like everyone.

"She left. She didn't want to be a part of this. But I couldn't. I thought this was a joke… and…" More tears rolled down her white face and he noticed that she had big bags under her eyes. He wanted to stay with her. Moved his across her right cheek and she stared. There was nothing romantic about the gesture and she understood it. But still. She wasn't used to this. No one was. You didn't act emotional when you were inside the headquarters' high, gripping walls. It was forbidden.

Everything they had lost, it would never be found again. You gave up your life and nothing remained. It was too late.

But it wasn't too late to fix this mess. It couldn't be.

Dawn had to be there. He wanted her.

"Mars", he said as he rose up, giving Toxicroak a look that it should follow him. "I have to go. I'm sorry but you can't follow me."

She smiled (it was small and it was real) as she wiped away the tears with the towel. "I understand. I'm going to leave as soon as my legs start working. So don't you dare worry about me!"

He turned away his gaze and smile. This sounded more like the Mars he knew. "I wouldn't bother."

"Asshole." And he found this the kindest comment he'd received today.

* * *

His legs tensed, he couldn't take another step, every limb pained and when he reached the end of the long, narrow tunnel filled with Zubats and Golbats (that wanted to use him for some evening snack) it was his Pokémon that had to push him from behind.

Why did Mt. Coronet have to be so damn _long_?

And it didn't really help that he didn't know the way. He had never bothered to search through this mountain since it didn't improved his rank in Cyrus' personal ranking system. He got lost and had to spill minutes trying to find the right way again. Wet ran from the irregular walls and dripped on the floor, increasing the spooky feeling of being lost in a box. Pandora's Box. This surely felt like it, the difference was that he knew what the box contained. But he still had to do this.

For her. For everyone.

Approximately five (something like that, minutes just seemed to swim by) minutes later he saw himself standing on the top of the mountain, which offered a fantastic view of the whole region, with all its tree-branches and high towers and ragged mountines. This surely was a spot to remember. It made you understand how beautiful this region was and he started to wonder how anyone would want to destroy this would from the beginning. It was so beautiful. So-

He then heard a roar from behind and quickly turned, despite his body hurting like it was infected by poison. The next thing he saw passed through his mind and he couldn't believe it. It was unnatural, uncanny, wrong. He blinked but the film continued rolling.

Dialga.

Dialga belonged to the mythical books and discussions and stories but not here. Not in this world. But here it was. Its gigantic, unbeatable guise standing in front of him. The jewels on its body sparkled as the sun cut through the thin clouds above him. He didn't know what to think. Here it was. Cyrus had done it. And he couldn't do anything about it. It was too big, too strong, too-

No. He had to stay calm. Even though fear ran through his body, felling like he was standing in front of a fading image. But he had to do something about this.

Then he heard a voice cutting through the dour, glacial wind, heard it but couldn't analyze it, couldn't understand it. It was over. What could anyone do in front of this… machine? The world was lost. It must be over. He wasn't pessimistic, he was wise and by being wise he knew that he had to throw in the towel. His Toxicroak couldn't match with Dialga, match with those red, red eyes, no one could, it could control time and make everything fighting back solid and useless. Felt the wind striking him from behind and everything slipped out and he fell on the ground. Noticed that Cyrus stood in front of him, completely absorbed by the mistake he'd created.

Then he heard that voice again. This time he _heard _it. Understood it. He recognized that voice everywhere, it was ingrained in his mind, she wouldn't leave him alone, never.

She was there. Even when he wasn't.

"Saturn!" she screamed and started running towards him, with those pink boots that he loved, with that blue hair filled with icicles that sparkled so pretty, with those big, big portal'eyes that was filled with tears and he loathed the man that'd done this to her. He would never accept it.

"Dawn?" he asked but the question drowned in the wind, but he looked up and slowly crawled (his power was gone, he couldn't stand up) to her. Every muscle tensed, every muscled pained, burned, slowly disappear but she was there and that made everything sink.

For one little moment when she jumped in his arms, burying her head in his chest and cried, cried and cried, he only sat there and slowly stroked her across the hair, with one arm across her waist. She shouldn't be like this, he thought as he inhaled the sweet scent of her blossom perfume mixed with sweat (and fear), laying his chin over her soft head.

He couldn't lose her. He just couldn't.

"Saturn!" she sobbed and grabbed her arms, as she understood that this was no time for hugging. "Dialga! I tried to use my Pokémon to tame it but it didn't work and I'm out of Pokémon. You have to battle it, you have to."

He took her face between his two hands, looking her straight in the eyes. "Listen, I can't do it. You have to." He then slowly let his lips met hers.

It was a promise. A promise filled with butterfly flatter and bright smiles. Of everything he wanted and couldn't throw away.

"I have a plan. Now, listen carefully."

* * *

A/N: I'm warning you, I'm not good at describing battles. I will try though ^^


	4. Chapter 4

I can't leave this story. I really can't. I have to race to the finish. And I'm getting there. Thank you all for reading this and waited for me. There is only one part of the story left now. Thank you :)

* * *

Sometimes (often) he wished time would stop. Freeze in its movement and he could only stop and think, analyze, comprehend. He could never do that anymore. Time always moved and he had to follow like some sick puppy that couldn't take his own decisions. From when he was young and wore too big shoes until now he always wanted to stand on his own two feet. Stand and watch and feel that he was he and not a copy of his family. Often he felt like he was his own personality. Often he felt like he was no one at all. The two contradicted and left him alone, exposed. He didn't understand who he was.

Like now. A part of him knew which side he should stand on. He should support Cyrus and shove Dawn down the cliff. He had been with his boss for so many years, growing a bond that could never be erased, it was like a wound, over time it got healed but didn't go away. And Dawn. Sweet little Dawn. She would never be his. They were too different, standing on the opposite side, silently watching each other with open eyes. But that was history. And history affected the present. But it didn't change it.

Dawn was important now. He repeated the mantra in his mind and it frightened him how easy it was to be there for her. Like his life before her didn't exist. He was sick of love stories, of sappy endings in books that could never happen in the real life of horror and crimes but now he was a part of it. He lived in a book. The only thing that mattered was her. And it would ruin everything. Ruin everything.

Dialga lowered its head and those small eyes felt like knives. His limps felt like they were filled with sand. He couldn't move. His head pondered. His eyes watered from the cold. He had to move. He had to think. Dawn couldn't do it for him. He had to. He had.

"I can't stop Dialga," he managed to stutter from frozen teeth and stiff lips. It was true. He couldn't. She did. He could feel his pulse beat under his white fingertips. "I can't. You have. So here's the plan. I give you some of my Revives. You use them on your Pokémon. I try to distract Dialga. You understand?" He realized he sounded like he was talking to a kid but in all honesty: right now she was. A kid soon was forced to be the heroine of the day. Heroine. Funny to think of her like one. Before it was the _dang kid_. Things could change fact, to something that never could be like it was.

"But I… I…" She gasped for breath, still with floods under her eyes gleaming in the heaven's light. Her fingers felt like stone. He rubbed them before pressing the star-shaped crystals in her hands, meeting her eyes again, deep, eternal. She would understand. He didn't have time to convince her. He didn't.

"Only you can do this," he whispered and got up despite his legs wanting to break and make him fall. But he couldn't fall. It was now or never. Did he stop now everything could wither and rot and Dialga was the only one who could control fate. Everything was up to Dialga. He couldn't accept that.

Cyrus still stood at the edge, not moving, not looking. It was like he left everything to the ruler of the time and everyone but him knew that not even the boss of Team Galactic couldn't control this beast. There were some Pokémon you just couldn't control. They were there and their minds were too complex to be changed by some foolish humans.

Dialga moved and the air seemed to follow. The wind struck his body and he felt his last energy running out. He couldn't fight in this condition. Still, if he gave up now everything was lost. One look back told him that Dawn with blank, blue eyes pressed the crystals to the Pokéballs but she was out for at least five minutes still. And five minutes were enough for Dialga to kill everything. He froze. No. He had to distract it somehow. With ice in his throat (or so it felt) he reached for Golbat's Pokéball resting on his belt and threw it in the air. Not that Golbat was one of his stronger Pokémon but since its agility was beneficial in this fight he had to rely on it. This was a giant risk, one Hyper Beam and Golbat would be erased to white dust but he hadn't time to hesitate now. He moved forward, raised one finger in the cold air and ordered the bat to fly closer.

Golbat leaped in, flapped with its wings like propellers and circled around, confusing. A roar that made his ears shrink and gut feel like a hard rock came to him and he leaped back, ignoring his fear and continued forward. Dialga moved, but not far and he told Golbat to strike, realizing a giant blob of purple sludge that covered the legendary's face like a mask. Dialga moved back, growling, but was out for about five seconds. Five glorious seconds. He counted in his head. One. Two. Three. Couldn't she hurry up? He couldn't keep up with this much longer.

"Are you done yet?" he screamed at her direction, his voice edging to panic and his harsh tone made her drop the rest of the Revieves on the ground. Not now. Please don't let your nerves fail you now. Please not now.

With another roar time itself seemed to stop. He had read about this Pokémon before so of course he had some basic facts in his packet to begin with but still everything he had learned seemed to fall from him and now when it came back he swore and felt the last of his hope pour out like blood. He couldn't even more. Dialga moved frequently and he could see it happen, could see when it looked eyes with him and small energy particles swayed around its opened mouth. Soon. Golbat was too far away and couldn't stop this. Saturn tried to move but it was like his legs were tangled in the ground with vines. His eyes watered. This couldn't be. Why didn't Cyrus stop this? Was this what he wanted?

Yes.

And the pain that soon was to come was indescribable.

It rose to that level where he couldn't feel, only open his mouth and try to scream, but nothing came out. His arm felt like it was pulled out from the rest of his body. First it became solid. He couldn't move it. Then it felt like the arm was a part that he couldn't use for anything. Like a broken machine part. He tried but it felt like stone. And the pain was unreal. He couldn't say how it felt. It made white dots appeared in front of his eyes and they felt like splashy prunes. He wanted to die. Please let him die. He couldn't handle this. He couldn't-

One second passed. Maybe two. Then he heard a flash of light behind him. Or rather guessed he did, everything flew around in a mess and he didn't even understand where he was anymore.

Two boots stamped the ground. He gasped. Almost flinched. Was this a dream? If it was why couldn't he wake up? Why?

The thin fabric on his arm because deep red. Blood purred. He clenched his teeth so hard his gum got split. Dialga's eyes narrowed, it focused on him. Golbat tried to gain attention but to no avail, Dialga's target was him. God damn, why couldn't he move? How could he change back time to normal? How far had Dawn got in reviving her Pokémon?

He cried. Cried because of the pain. Cried because this would never go away.

He felt a cold hand on his back. His head felt like a sandbag but he still tried to turn around. The air was tense, like you could cut through it with a knife. Dialga focused. Dialga prepared. The end.

But it didn't end.

Someone (Dawn) shoved him from the side so that the next beam of energy passed by his side, but not hitting either him or her. He slammed to the ground, the cold snow eating through his uniform and his weak arm feeling bagged and unusual. Her hair covered his face as she followed with him – he didn't remember it growing so long – and her jagged breath made the panic inside him rise to the level where he couldn't think anymore.

She saved him. But she didn't save the world.

She clung to his waist with her dear life like she was afraid of him sipping away from him like a flood to a river. It was a dot of light in his cloud of agony. He tried to smile down at her but his lips felt like marble; he couldn't move them.

He and she. It became them. They had to get through this together. It couldn't end. Not now. Not when she was here with him. Not when she had become his. It couldn't be the end. Not to the world. Not to them.

"I-I-I…" She stuttered her words in the fabric and he once again stood up, facing the unnatural. "I'm ready. I will have to try. I-I-I."

He said nothing. There was still a girl inside her talent. He came to think of that as a gift, not a curse. He never thought he could reach that low.

Her Empoleon stood ready with his head high. He had fallen once and now it was time for revenge. Decision glowed in his small eyes and it was enough to awake Dialga's attention. It forgot Golbat which still tried to cease minimal pain with its attack. She let him go and jumped on the place, before shouting load and clear to Empoleon to use Bubble Beam.

It was like a dance. She danced across the mountain and no matter which attack she used it seemed right, it somehow worked. Empoleon used Hyper Beam and forced Dialga to slip to the right, and if happiness ever had chosen to beam it was now. The air seemed to move again and he felt a cold breeze touch his cheek. His blood ran again and his fingers on his left arm got warm, he could move them, slowly. It pained but he still was relieved. He called back Golbat because it probably did more damage than use and watched as she called out her Luxray and Glaceon.

They worked together. They worked as a team. And he had the chance to watch her, without being the opponent, without being the one scolding her skill. Now he could only watch. Only see. And understand that he would never reach her level. She was superior. She was a goddess.

"You can do this," he whispered to the air and knew it was true. She could.

It was then he understood that Cyrus was still there and that he couldn't leave him out from the equation just yet if he wanted to solve it.

The man looked like this was as exciting as an empty scene, almost with a bored expression like he thought Dawn's attempt meant nothing. That was probably for the best. She couldn't handle him as well.

"You can never win," Cyrus shouted and his eyes were black, lost. Cyrus was lost. And he was wrong. "You can fight. But in the end this is the only solution. We humans don't deserve this world. We can't treat it. We can't handle it. This is the only way."

"You're wrong!" Dawn screamed back and knotted her fragile, dirty fingers to firsts, turning to him. "We may misuse this world. But we don't solve anything by destroying it. What would we gain? What would change? We can't do this!"

"You're a child. You would never understand," the boss retorted smoothly, cutting the conversation short. He never liked to be belied.

"I do understand!" she cried out, pausing, then started to run to Dialga, who still was crippled by her Pokémon's attacks. Saturn wanted to stop her but he was too weak; whatever she was planned she had to do it alone.

A light. A moment. Energy. Then everything seemed to stop.

"You have to stop this, Dialga," she pleaded and placed her boots solidly on the ground. Dialga watched, not seeming to move. "We were wrong. We shouldn't have tried to command you. We don't have rights to command anyone. We apologize. But I still don't want to fight you. We are wrong and you are right. I'm sorry. But please, stop this!"

She tried to negotiate with Dialga. That wasn't something he had considered before. Dialga roared, lifted its head and let out a roar that almost destroyed his ears, releasing another Hyper Beam that barely missed her. One hit and she would be gone. He tried to walk up to her but his legs didn't budge.

"Dawn, get out of there!" he ordered but she didn't move, only held up a hand with lips formed into a thin smile, her eyes open and broken, bleeding out fear. She shouldn't have been here. This was too much for her. She would never recover. Oh, how he blamed this whole Galactic mess. Things would never be the same _if _they actually manage to outrun this. He started to lose hope.

But she didn't.

"Saturn, I like you," she revealed and the air seemed to freeze again. A warmth wobbled in his gut, a warmth that had been absent for so long he didn't remember how wonderful it felt.

This kid could create miracles. She could create happiness. She was too wonderful to die.

"I love you too, but please, _get out of there_!" he shouted as another beam came striking for her, catching her hair and cut it in half. The loose strands of hair fell to the ground and she remained there, like her hair didn't mean anything.

Glaceon, Empoleon and Luxray once again released their elemental attacks, trying to halt Dialga's movement and she stepped forward with her broken bangs. "Do you want to obey this man?" she asked and pointed a finger at Cyrus. "He only wants to use you for his own selfish purpose. You wouldn't be free with him. Is that right? It can't be right."

"Don't try to reason with a _Pokémon_, you stupid child," he could hear Cyrus say from the distance. Dawn didn't care. She never did when she planned something.

And the next thing she said was filled with compassion and charity, it was stunning and it was beautiful and he wished he could record the speech on a tape so that he could keep it forever.

"Dialga, this is wrong. We started it. So let us end it," she ended and he wondered where she had learned to be so rhetoric, since he couldn't find that to suit with her overall personality.

He just stood there dumbfounded. There was nothing he could do. She did it herself.

And it stopped. The rest happened in a fog. The attacks stopped. The wind screamed. The next second Dialga was gone, masked by the heavens and never to be seen again.

How did this happen again?

The second later he fell to the ground and got covered by the black fog.

* * *

He woke up by a slap in the face. He clipped with his paining eyes and tried to get up, failing. This was ridiculous. He didn't have time to sleep now. Dialga was here. Dialga could… The thought faded.

Dialga wasn't here anymore.

He turned his head and met two blue eyes. Pretty blue eyes. She didn't cry anymore.

"Are you okay?" she asked with a thick voice, clenching her fingers around his wrist and gently pulling him to his feet. He wobbled. What was wrong with his body? Why couldn't it work the only time it was necessary. He was useless.

"And you?" he questioned back and bruised his fingers across hers.

She nodded and smiled. He managed to smile back. His arm didn't hurt anymore. It felt like it wasn't even there.

"Where's Cyrus?"

She kicked on a rock and watched it fall down a slope of snow. "I don't know. He just disappeared."

"I doubt I will never see him again."

"Will you miss him?"

"Yes. The person I thought he was. I will not miss the one he has become."

She circled her arm around his and he could feel her cold skin. When would she learn to use more clothes when it was cold outside? "Shall we go down?" she asked and he was surprised how cheerful she sounded. Didn't this affect her?

(It did.)

"I guess," he said and cought her hand in his and started to walk.

They slope down the mountain as united and since they outcome this – this – there was only logical and rational to guess that they would be together forever.

They had to be. Right?


	5. Chapter 5

N/A: It's over. Thank you all for reading and commenting and favorite and everything this. It's everything. Thank you so much, you're all wonderful.

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No, they didn't live happily even after. This wasn't a fairytale, this was reality and nothing could be taken for granted.

It happened so fast, they didn't understand, they didn't comprehend that some things needed thoughts and time. It was a such strong attraction, it clouded their vision and they couldn't see straight, see it for what it was, only for what it felt.

They walked down Mt Coronet in silence, with fingers locked and shoulders touching but when they got down they walked different ways with one last kiss and a soft whispering of _we will meet again_.

Apparently, no one could be certain.

It felt horrible in the beginning though, like he was missing a piece of himself in the ocean and he tried to fish but they wouldn't bite. However, in the inside he understood she licked her wound in silence, by herself, trying to forget and move on. He couldn't help her with that. They were still two persons, they weren't united.

But he learned to move on, to realize that she had goals and he couldn't stop them. He didn't want to stop them.

He hired an apartment close to the headquarters and started from scratch, tried to make Team Galactic like he thought they were before Cyrus' true intentions were lighted in the spotlight. He didn't know if he succeeded but it didn't matter. He tried and this was him and he was content.

The fight never left him. He dreamt that he was there, facing death but he could deal with it. Time healed most wounds and he lived with the conclusion that he wasn't the only one that had been there. Dawn had too. They had been there. It felt okay. He still lived. He still had a brain. That was everything.

Dawn briefly mentioned that she would continue for her badge-run and he smiled, knowing that she would succeed. She couldn't fail. Not after this. She was unbeatable. She was.

He closed his eyes and remembered. She would still be Dawn, whatever that did happen. That was enough, more than enough.

And when she knocked on his door, stood there in her red coat with her hair slicked to her pretty face in the rain, he knew that this would survive. Somehow they had to. They had something together and it couldn't die.

It couldn't die.

She smiled and walked in his arms.

* * *

The End


End file.
